


Piece De Resistance

by oceaxe



Series: Portrait [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ass Play, Blow Jobs, Groping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/pseuds/oceaxe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malfoy has some definite ideas for the location of Harry's newly acquired piece de resistance. Only with this piece, there's no resistance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piece De Resistance

After a confusing conversation with Dean’s agent, it was arranged that the painting would be delivered via house-elf courier to Harry’s flat immediately. Harry wrote a check for an obscene amount of money and handed it over while feeling Malfoy’s hand surreptitiously fondling his arse. His cock, which had not abated in its devoted salute to both the painting’s subject and said subject’s physical proximity, was starting to draw all the blood from his brain and he could barely follow the plot anymore. 

Finally, the agent was shaking his hand while peering over his shoulder with a knowing expression. Harry almost rolled his eyes- there was no need for her to look so smug. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going down; Malfoy was hardly making an effort to be subtle.

Excitement tightening in his chest, he turned and grabbed Malfoy’s hand, hustling him out of there before he could make more of a spectacle. Not that he minded the spectacle- he just wanted it all to himself. 

Harry all but dragged the uncomplaining blond man to an alleyway and wrapped his arms around Malfoy’s waist, apparating them both to his flat. The painting, six feet long by four and half feet high, was already there, propped up in the hallway. Harry figured it could wait and bent his head to devour Malfoy’s mouth again, but Malfoy had other ideas. He twisted out of Harry’s arms and levitated the painting into the spacious living room. “Where shall I go, hmmm? A place of prominence, I should think,” he murmured as if to himself.

“Isn’t that my decision?” Harry asked, walking back over to Malfoy and trying to feel him up. He had been craving this for far, far too long, and now that he’d taken the first step he wanted to go the distance. Malfoy ignored him and sidled away, mouth in a sultry moue, eyes scanning the room. His hands were out in front of him in mirrored L-shapes, like a Muggle director looking for the perfect shot. Harry huffed impatiently. At last he lowered them and turned to Harry. “Get rid of that awful black painting. It’s going there,” he said, gesturing to the telly. 

“What? No!" Harry spluttered. "Do you know what that is? I need that there!” 

“I take back what I said about you having excellent taste, Potter. That minimalistic tripe is by far the worst painting I have ever seen!” Harry would have explained, but Malfoy was clearly working himself into a strop. Harry thought it best to humor him. Rather, his cock thought it best to speed things along. 

“Fine.” Harry banished the telly to his closet, levitated the painting into place and secured it with an industrial strength sticking charm. It looked pretty good there, actually. Harry gulped as he once again registered the sensual aura of the painting, which seemed to send tendrils of lust into the room, redirecting all available attention to itself.

“It’s got a very… commanding presence, doesn’t it?” Malfoy drawled as he came up to stand behind Harry. He pressed himself all along Harry’s backside, undulating slightly and causing Harry’s flagging erection to return full force. 

“Why don’t you get a little closer? An artist wants to see their work appreciated in the proper fashion.”

“You’re - you’re not the artist,” Harry said, mouth suddenly dry. The Malfoy in the painting was radiating an invitation to touch that was hard to resist.

“I beg to differ, Potter - Dean didn’t invent me out of whole cloth. I’m a work of art all on my own.” He licked Harry’s neck and lightly sucked on his trapezius. “Go on, get familiar with your new acquisition.” 

Harry stepped forward and Malfoy followed as if glued to him. He reached up and felt more than heard the subsonic purr of the charm activating. The whole body glowed with vitality, but the subject’s legs and arse seemed to have a particularly magnetic pull on his attention. His hand slid up the toned thigh to the swell of the buttock and he traced that faint crease with his fingertip, marveling at the warmth he could feel. Malfoy hmmm’d behind him, his cock pressing into Harry’s bum in a most compelling way. Harry let his hand wander over the right-hand cheek, feeling the delicate peach fuzz that covered the fine skin. He squeezed and Malfoy shoved his prick further up against Harry’s arse. 

Suspicion bloomed in Harry’s mind. He ran his finger all the way down the cleft, seeing just how far he could get it in. Surely the illusion only went so deep. Malfoy gasped and trembled behind him. “Did you - can you- feel that?” Harry asked, shocked but not sure why - this was Malfoy, after all.

“Yes- mmmm- the painting’s charms allow me to feel everything that happens to the - subject.” At that, painting-Malfoy seemed to smirk and thrust out his arse a fraction more. Malfoy sighed and reached around to feel for Harry’s cock. When he found it, he gave it a firm, slow stroke. Harry pushed into the touch, reveling in it but still intent on finding something out. “How far in -” he broke off while he used all four fingertips to press into the divide between those lovely cheeks, probing with the middle finger for- ah. Oh.

“Ooohhhh,” Malfoy moaned in his ear. He slid down to the floor and crawled around til he was at Harry’s feet. Harry’s finger was just grazing the furled pucker of Malfoy’s hole and wondering if- he couldn’t believe this thought was crossing his mind, but he had to know. “Could I - could I fuck the painting?” he asked, disbelieving. 

“Mmmm, keep that up. I’m not sure, but I’d certainly let you try,” Malfoy returned as he waved his hand over Harry’s trouser placket. The zipper and button undid themselves and Malfoy drew his hand down, bringing both trousers and pants to the floor. He was on Harry’s cock instantly, slicking it with his saliva til it ran down into the coarse hair at the base, then stroking up with an expert fist and taking in the head with _just_ the right amount of suction. Harry's finger worked its way ever so slightly inside the tight passage, wanting to cast a Lubricus but unwilling to risk damage to the painting. Malfoy kept up his measured assault on Harry's prick but moaned around it and wriggled his arse in an unbelievably appealing way. Harry shuddered and pushed him gently back, leaving off his exploration of the painting to haul Malfoy up by his armpits. 

“I want the real thing now,” he whispered against Malfoy’s lips, receiving the other man’s tongue in his mouth by way of reply. He awkwardly stepped out from the muddle of clothes on the floor and pulled Malfoy towards the couch, too impatient to bother with trying to get to the bedroom. For all he knew, painting-Malfoy liked to watch. If so, he was about to get an eyeful.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Birdsofshore for helping nudge me in this direction when I was at a loss for how to proceed on the smutty portion of the story. Without her suggestions, this would have been far less fun to write and read!


End file.
